Brother's Fall
by TheAssassinGame
Summary: Edward Young and Haytham Kenway were like brothers, but all that changed as their paths led in different directions; one an Assassin, the other, a Templar. As each young boy grows into a man, they discover truths; precursor sites, flaws in their creed and the meaning of loyalty and family. But will this be forgotten when they stand, face to face?
1. Visiting Friends

_December 3rd, 1735, London, England_

The sun was high in the sky, signalling the early afternoon. The family opened the gate of their friend's household and walked up the path to the door. The light snow crunched beneath their feet and they breathed out plumes of warm breath in the cold air as they shivered.

"Guards." Jemima whispered to her husband, noting the two British uniformed soldiers that stood outside the Kenway's home. "Why are there guards?"

"I don't know." Thomas answered as his wife clutched their son's hand a little tighter. "I guess that's something we'll have to ask Mister Kenway."

They knocked on the door to the large house in Queen Anne's square and a maid answered. With a smile, she beckoned them in.

"The Kenways are expecting you." She said.

"Thank you." Jemima replied as the maid led them into the decadent house, much nobler than their humble home in Oxfordshire.

Due to the distance, it was rare that they could visit the Kenways but they made the effort as often as they could. Edward Kenway, the man of the house, was a good friend to Thomas and Jemima and his son, Haytham, was a lonely little boy and his only friend appeared to be their son, Edward Young.

"Thomas! Jemima!" Edward Kenway stood as the three reached the living room.

"It's good to see you, Edward." Thomas grinned as they embraced.

"It's been too long. Jemima, you look as beautiful as ever." Edward gave a sly grin as he respectfully kissed her hand.

"Thank you, as does your wife." Jemima averted her attention to the woman beside Kenway. "Tessa, you look lovely."

"Thank you, dear, so do you." The two women kissed each cheek, giving each other a delicate smile.

"And my, hasn't little Edward grown!" Tessa Kenway exclaimed as she noticed the twelve year old boy standing behind his father.

"I could say the same to Haytham!" Jemima clapped her hands at the sight of the Kenway's son. "And it must be your tenth birthday tomorrow, yes?"

The young boy nodded.

"Turning into a strong, noble man, I see." Thomas grinned.

"Yes, takes after his father." Kenway nodded.

"But where is Jenny? I thought she'd be here?" Jemima noted the absence of Edward's daughter.

"Ah, she'll be around. Probably with Reginald." Tessa waved it off.

"Reginald?" Jemima raised an eyebrow.

"Reginald is Jenny's man-friend, they're courting!" Haytham giggled.

"Thank you, Haytham." Kenway smiled. "Now, why don't you and Edward run along and play, yes?"

"Yes, father." Haytham nodded.

"Don't get into too much mischief." Thomas told his son before the two boys scampered away.

The adults sat down for tea, to talk about various adult things, to close the gap of their time spent apart and most probably, the arrangements for the following day to celebrate Haytham's birthday. Meanwhile, the boys ran into the games room to do their own catching up, as though no time had come between them.

"Why are there guards posted to your door?" Edward asked, looking out the window at the way he came in.

"Reginald and Father had a... Disagreement." Haytham said as he rummaged through a box of toys.

"What about?" Edward further questioned as he watched the guards below, decorated in the noble British uniform as they stood transfixed.

"I don't know. But he said something to me as he left."

"Your father?"

"Reginald. He said 'I tried to warn him.'"

"Tried to warn him about what? Is your father in trouble?"

"I don't know." He repeated.

A silence flooded in and both boys were given a brief moment to ponder this, but any slight worry that had clung to them, fell away as Haytham spoke.

"Reginald wants to help with my training. He knows how to fight, just like father."

"It's good to have two teachers instead of one." Edward smiled. From a young age, both his mother and father had taught him how to fight. "Does he know about the secret compartment?"

"Yes." Haytham nodded. "He may as well. I trust him."

Edward shrugged and approached his friend. Haytham grunted as he struggled to find the button but gave a small victorious cry as it clicked and a panel gave way. Inside the secret drawer were weapons, hidden from his mother, sister, everyone but his father, Reginald Birch, and his best friend, Edward. They each took a sword from it before closing it up again.

"Enguard!" Haytham grinned and stood in a fighting stance.

Edward returned the grin and struck his blade before Haytham parried and went for a lunge. Edward jumped back, height and experience on his side. The two fought on and they were evenly enough matched, although it was Edward that appeared to be winning.

As the light began to disappear and the room became dimmer, they were called from the other room.

"Haytham! Edward! It's time to go to bed!" Tessa called.

"Aww, can't we stay up a little longer?" Haytham called back in protest.

"You can, but then your birthday will not come as fast."

Haytham grunted.

"Fine! Can we sleep in the games room?"

"If you like, I'll have Edith bring you two some blankets and pillows. Edward, did you bring pyjamas?"

"Yes, Mrs Kenway!" Edward called.

"Good boy. Haytham, go fetch yours and I'll bring you two some hot milk in a moment."

"Thank you, Mother!"

"Thank you, Mrs Kenway!"

The two boys lay on the games room floor, made comfortable enough by excessive sheets, blankets and pillows that the maid had brought them. Lights from down the hall indicated that their parents were still awake, although the lights in their own room had to be extinguished as they were meant to be asleep.

"I'm glad you're here, Edward." Haytham said as he pushed his empty cup to the side.

"So am I. You need to have a friend to celebrate your tenth birthday with. It's an important age."

"But twelve is even better. You're so much older and you know so much more."

Edward smiled. Of course, he wasn't that much older, but he did think he knew much more than Haytham. Two years ago, when he was ten himself, he was taught the ways of the Assassins and all about their history in battling the Templars. Maybe Haytham knew about that too, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell him.

"We're practically the same age." Edward told him. "But, don't you have any other friends? Like, if I wasn't here, who would you celebrate your birthday with?"

"There is a boy next door, Tom Barrett. But I've only spoken to him a few times. I wouldn't call us friends."

"So, your father doesn't let you talk to anyone but me?"

Haytham shook his head.

"I don't think he trusts a lot of people. He's known your parents for a long time. He trusts them. He trusts you."

Edward nodded and sat up.

"Our fathers are like brothers, don't you think?"

Haytham thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement.

"Yes. They greet each other like brothers would. And, they have their arguments but they are always resolved in laughter."

"They used to sail together, my father, your father and my mother."

"I still can't believe your mother, gentle Mrs Jemima Young, used to sail on all sorts of ships."

"I know, it's funny." Edward laughed. "Your father was the captain, wasn't he?"

"Yes, of the Jackdaw."

"That's a funny name for a ship." Edward giggled.

"It is." Haytham gave a little laugh. "I would have chosen something more heroic, like the Lion, or the Dragon."

"Those would be good names."

"My father bought me a little figurine of a jackdaw the other day. He said it looked like the figurehead on the front of his ship." Haytham pointed lazily to the bird figurine that sat on the window sill.

Edward stood, pushing his blanket aside as he went to the window to examine his friend's toy. It was a pretty figurine; delicate yet it held a crafty look in its eyes. Unsuspecting. Maybe that's why Mister Kenway called his ship the Jackdaw.

His eyes drifted out to the front lawn where the moon shone against the crisp snow. It gave a comforting, gentle glow and he sighed, peacefully. His eyes continued to wander until Edward sighted the two bodies of the guards, their blood pooling, melting the snow.

"Haytham..." He breathed, setting down the figurine as calmly as he could.

"What is it?" The boy sat up, noticing the fear in his friend's voice.

Edward opened his mouth to speak but the door crashed down and the ferocious shouting and the distressed screams drowned him out.


	2. Intruders

"Nonsense, you relax, Thomas and I will take the boys to shop for toys." Jemima smiled at Tessa who gave a grateful smile in return.

"Thank you, that would give me enough time to sort out his cake."

Edward Kenway nodded and looked up at the clock.

"Oh, goodness!" He exclaimed. "We've been up half the night talking about this! Tessa, did you send the boys to bed?"

"Yes, a little over an hour ago. They're sleeping in the games room."

"Good." Kenway clapped his hands together.

"Father, shall I help Tessa or go with the Youngs?" Jennifer Scott Kenway asked as she sat beside Reginald, hand in hand.

"I should like you to assist Tessa, Jenny." Kenway told her. It hurt both him and his wife that his daughter would not call Tessa 'Mother', but he didn't blame her. Caroline was still held dear to his heart too.

"Yes, Father. And Reginald?"

"He shall accompany Thomas and Jemima."

"Yes, Sir." Birch nodded.

Suddenly, Jemima sat up straight, as if listening for something.

"What is it, dear?" Thomas asked her and took her hand.

"I thought I heard something." She sighed and shook her head. "It was nothing, never mind."

When the front door crashed down, they knew it wasn't nothing. Jennifer and Tessa screamed, but they were pressed back by Birch and Kenway who rushed to the side where they pulled decorative swords from the wall. Five mercenaries raced in, brandishing swords. They stood in the hall for a moment, blood already dripping from their weapons after dealing with the guards, as they pondered which room to invade first.

"Mother! Father!" Two voices rang out from down the hall and Jemima, Thomas, Birch and Kenway burst into action.

"Edward! Haytham!" Jemima screamed for them to escape, but the mercenaries knew where they were.

The two boys cowered, clutching each other as the five mercenaries stepped hungrily towards them.

"No!" Kenway roared and brought his sword down on the mercenary closest to him.

"Jemima, take the boys and go!" Thomas ordered as they were pushed into battle, the attention of the mercenaries removed from the young boys and to the four armed adults.

Jemima ushered Edward and Haytham towards her as Kenway and Birch yelled curses and kicked the assailants back.

"Boys, go to Tessa and Jenny. Escape." She kissed both boys on the forehead, as if they were both her sons. "I love you. Now, go!"

Tears in their eyes, they vanished down the hall.

"Jemima! What are doing?" Thomas yelled as a mercenary swung his sword at him, but was deflected by the Assassin wrist blade. "Go with them!"

"I made a promise, Thomas!" She called over the clash of blades. "I'll never stray from our path! I'll be with you until the end!"

"Damn your stubbornness, woman!" He roared. He knew she wasn't going anywhere. He knew she would rather die by his side than save her own life.

Edward Kenway was fighting two mercenaries at once. While this would have been as easy as falling off a log twenty years ago, things had changed. He'd gotten older, slower and play fighting a nine year old boy wasn't good practise for the real thing. As a blade slashed his arm, he cried out, just as another plunged through his chest, silencing him.

"Kenway!" Thomas roared as the body of his friend hit the floor.

A mercenary bent over Kenway's unmoving form and rummaged around in his jacket before retrieving a ledger. A smile played across his face. That's what that book was; a prize. And the game was murder.

Jemima and Thomas didn't notice Birch slip away as they were forced to fight on. If they had noticed, most likely, they would have been confused as to why the mercenaries let Birch go so easily.

Soon, realisation gripped the couple's hearts. Like Edward, they were much older and had not had enough practise to win a fight like this.

They were going to die.

Thomas clutched his wife's hand, their wrist blades scraping against each other.

"I love you."

"I love you."

One man struck Thomas' neck and he spluttered, coughing and choking of blood as he collapsed. Jemima screamed as he fell, that pain superior over the physical pain that she felt as another sword slashed at her stomach.

"Thomas!" Jemima wept, clutching her husband as they lay on the floor, surrounded in their own blood.

The mercenaries left, off to find the others occupying the house as the two died.

Thomas writhed. He couldn't breath. His eyes darted about, trying to focus on his wife's face, but all he could see was the blood that poured from her stomach.

"Thomas..." Jemima cried, feeling her own life slipping away.

They held each other in their last moments, as they always hoped they would. Together, until the end.

Hearts racing, the boys ran. Edward ran the quickest as he had the longer legs but Haytham wasn't too far behind.

"Mother!" Haytham called as they ran.

Edward couldn't fight the panic building inside him. When his mother had kissed him, was that the last time he'd ever see her? He never got to say goodbye to his father. Neither had Haytham.

"Haytham! I'm here!" A voice called and they turned a corner where Edith, Jennifer and Tessa sat crouched in the pantry, hiding.

They ran to her where the woman gathered them in her arms, promising protection, safety.

"That poor boy..." Edith whispered, the maid's eyes wide and unseeing.

"What happened?" Haytham asked.

"The boy next door, Tom Barrett." Tessa said in a hushed voice. "He came over. He saw a light. He thought it was you that was calling him. The poor boy was slaughtered."

Edward and Haytham put hands to their mouths. This was too real. It couldn't be happening. Death was something that happened to other people, not them.

Loud voices and thundering feet approached as Tessa pulled the boys closer to her. Four mercenaries burst in through the pantry door and saw them almost immediately.

Brave Edith, the maid that would give her life to protect the family she loved, did just that as she stood, using her body as a shield as the four tried to escape. She was cut down and Jennifer, who was too slow, was snatched up.

"No! Jennifer!" Tessa screamed as the young woman kicked and struggled as she tried to escape.

The mercenary that grabbed her dropped his sword as he hoisted her over his shoulder. Another stood behind him, a gun to Jennifer's head to stop her squirming. A third and a fourth stepped forward to reach the boys and the terrified mother.

Haytham dropped to his knees and snatched the dropped sword. As one mercenary grabbed his mother, she screamed, more so when Haytham's sword pierced her assailant's eye and he fell to the ground, dead. The sword was still plunged into the man's skull and the remaining three mercenaries exchanged a glance before retreating. They already got what they came for.

"No! Put me down!" Jennifer screamed as her voice faded away down the hall.

"Jennifer!" Tessa's voice was weak, but she still found the strength to call for her step daughter.

"Jenny!" Haytham shouted and pushed his mother aside as he ran for his sister.

"Haytham, no!" Edward and Tessa exclaimed but it was too late.

The mercenaries that held Jennifer had already bolted, but one remained, the same man that killed Edward. He stood in the hall and waited for Haytham.

"'Ello, little boy." He sneered and held out his sword.

Wide eyed, Haytham froze. He took a step back.

Before he could run, before he could even scream, the mercenary snatched Haytham from where he stood and slammed him against the wall. Haytham's head cracked, his eyes rolled back and slumped to the ground. The mercenary pointed his sword to the chest of the young boy and smiled.

"No!"

The mercenary coughed blood and looked down to see the tip of the sword pierce right through his neck. He choked and fell to his knees as Birch pulled out his sword. Tossing the bloody sword and the corpse aside, he picked up the unconscious boy and rushed to the kitchen where he heard the cry of Tessa and Jennifer.

"Mrs Kenway! Are you alright?" He cried as she weakly got to her feet.

"Where is Edward? Where is my husband?" She wept, clutching Reginald's shoulder.

"He... He was killed."

"Then, Mister Birch, I am not alright."

Birch helped Tessa walk down the corridor, supporting her weight as he held her son Edward followed, eyes darting around in fear of the mercenaries returning. His mother gazed at Haytham with a mournful look, not pitying, but fearful. Her son had just killed a man. And she was so afraid of what he would become.

"What is that smoke?" Edward asked, holding his shirt fabric to his face as black smoke began to thicken around them as they made their way for the door.

"They have torched the house. We must escape while we still can." Reginald replied, his voice harsh and shaky.

As they passed the games room, Edward stopped.

"Thomas... No..."

The voice was faint and weak but he recognised it.

"Mother!" Edward burst in where he faltered.

He was greeted by the sight of Edward Kenway, his namesake, dead, blood pooled around him. His father was also dead, his eyes wide, his mouth wide, giving signs of him struggling to breath as his life bled out from his neck. His mother lay beside him, a hand on her stomach, covered in warm, sticky blood. She wept for her dead husband. At the voice of her son, she turned and tried a smile.

"Edward."

"Mother!" Edward fell to his knees beside the dying woman, his eyes welling up with tears.

"Edward, dear, don't cry." She took his hands, unintentionally covering his hands with her and her husband's blood.

"You're dying." His lip quivered.

"I am." She told him, trying to keep that gentle smile on her face. "But first, I need you to promise something to me."

"Anything."

"We've told you all you need to know about the Assassins and the Templars. But we were always there to protect you from that. Now, you may be on your own. There is a traitor amongst you. Tell no one where your loyalties lie if you fear for your own life. Find the English Brotherhood-" she was cut off, her breath struggling to support her. "Find them. Learn. Be a good boy."

"Mother-"

"I love you." Jemima whispered this last part before her eyes closed and her head fell back. Her grip loosened on his hands.

Edward began to cry.

"Edward, come on, we have to go!" Birch rushed in behind him and lifted the sobbing boy.

He carried him through the door, through the black smoke that poisoned the crisp December air and bundled him into a carriage beside Haytham and Tessa, the boy's head resting on his mother's lap. Reginald left them to take the reins of the horses and kicked them into a gallop as they escaped the burning wreckage that was the Kenway family home.

"What happened?" Tessa's eyes were wide as she saw the blood on the young boy's hands.

"Death." Edward managed.

She nodded. Her face was weary and looked twenty years older. She looked between the boys, one, her only son, the other, an orphan, before looking behind them through the back window. In the dark night, her home glowed in flames as it began to crumble.

"I have a feeling there is much more of that to come." She said.


	3. Lost

Edward did as he was told. He didn't tell anyone about his Assassin roots, not even Haytham. He wanted to but he would never disobey his mother's dying request. And in truth, he wouldn't know how to tell him as Haytham was still healing from what had happened and spoke little to the boy he saw as a brother. The boys stayed with Tessa a while but the woman was still distressed about watching her son kill a man before her eyes, they rarely saw her. Haytham's relationship with his mother became strained and while both mourned for Edward Kenway, Haytham seemed to recover quicker and begin to see a father figure in Reginald as Tessa slowly faded away from the family picture.

Soon, Birch became anxious to leave England and search for Jenny, as was Haytham, and with little reason for him to stay, Tessa allowed Birch to take her son to Europe.

But Edward had other plans.

He couldn't stay with Tessa, nor could he follow Haytham and Birch. He'd been told to find the Brotherhood and he promised his mother he would do so.

A week later, when Birch and Haytham planned to depart, Edward fled.

In the middle of the night, he dressed in the clothes given to him by the Kenways after his own had perished in the fire and having escaped the burning home in his pyjamas. He didn't have any possessions with him as luckily, he had left his treasured teddy bear at his home in Oxfordshire, mainly because he didn't want Haytham to think he was a baby by still owning one.

He wanted to leave a note, to tell his best friend, his brother, that he was gone and that he would miss him very much, but no words could express his actions.

"I'm sorry, Haytham." Edward whispered as he left the bedroom he shared with him. "I hope we'll meet again. Good luck."

The young boy yawned and rolled over, oblivious to his friend leaving his life.

Edward opened the window in the living room as it made little noise, much less than the front door, and climbed out. He ran for the road and waved until pitying late night travellers let him ride in their carriage.

'Oh, you poor boy, it's so cold out!'

'You'll catch a chill being out there all night!'

'Its terribly dark, why are you out in middle of the night?'

They made their comments and their questions but Edward always answered with the same thing.

"I'm lost."

They would reply with a sympathetic smile and a promise to get the boy to as far as their journey would allow, then he would jump out and wave for another carriage before the story started again.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, Edward was home. With a smile and a grateful nod, he thanked the old couple that pitied him before running along the street to his house. Knowing where the spare key was kept, he unlocked the door and stepped in.

His home was cold and unwelcoming. It was as if it knew that his parents were not coming back and shunned the boy because he returned alone. Edward jumped up the stairs remembering the first time he did so, his parents' voices ringing in his ears as they told him to be careful. Before the tears started to fall, he rushed into his room and threw himself on the bed, curling up with his teddy bear, Kenway, and sobbed and sobbed.

They were gone. Gone forever. In just a few days, his parents had died, along with Edward Kenway, his namesake and hero. He had loved the stories his parents had told him, about this brave, ruthless man who fought fifty men and captained a ship, sometimes at the same time. Maybe they were just stories, it didn't seem that this same man could do all of that and then just die one night so easily.

He had left Haytham behind as well, his greatest friend who he saw as a brother, he abandoned him to search for his own path. Was Haytham awake by now? Had he realised he was gone? Did he care?

Edward felt like a child. He felt like a little baby, lying there, crying as he held his teddy bear. But he couldn't help it. Bloodied images of Kenway, his father and mother flooded his head and the tears refused to slow.

Then, he heard a noise. Footsteps. Someone was in his house.

He wiped his eyes and put the bear to one side as he cautiously stepped towards the door. He hardly dared to breathe. A shadow passed in front of him and he slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying out. The shadow paused. The figure came into view and stepped towards the door.

Edward took a step back, eyes wide. He risked a look away from the door, desperate for an escape, but the door opened wider, a hand around the side.

With a grunt, Edward kicked out, the door slamming, trapping the intruders hand in the door frame. The man cried out and Edward bolted, pulling the door open again and racing past the figure before he even knew what had happened.

He didn't see what the man looked like, he just ran. He flew down the stairs, taking three at a time, clutching the rail in case he stumbled. Footsteps thundered behind him. The man was chasing him. Edward ran for the front door and continued to run until all around him was quiet. Behind his home was a field, with a few trees, bathed in early morning sunlight. It would have been peaceful if his life wasn't at risk.

Panting, he looked around. No one was following him. He was alone.

His eyes drifted to the shadows, one of him, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to maintain his breathing, and the other was of the tree behind him. It was unusual in shape, its branches formed like there was a man-

The figure slammed into Edward before it even clicked that his pursuer had followed him in the trees.

"No!" Edward shrieked. "Let me go!"

"Hold on a moment, lad!" The figure yelled, standing and holding the boy by the scruff of his collar.

Edward looked at him, terrified at what his murderer would look like. The man was dressed in white with a hood covering his face. The same hood his parents used to wear.

"You're an Assassin!" He whimpered.

"Yes, I am." He sighed. "You don't need to be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then let me go!"

"If I let you go, do you promise not to run?"

Edward frowned. He didn't trust this man, but he wore an Assassin uniform so that counted for something. And really, whether he ran or not, the man could catch him and kill him easily.

"I promise."

"Good lad." The Assassin smiled and let go of his collar.

"What do you want?" Edward asked, once he was sure the man's hidden blade wouldn't be in any danger of stabbing him.

"I'm here to take you to the Brotherhood." He pulled back his hood and Edward was surprised to see a friendly face under it.

Edward nodded. So, as it turned out, it wasn't so much that he had found the Brotherhood but the Brotherhood had found him.

"Are you going to come with me?"

Edward remained silent as he thought. He still didn't trust that man, but it was what his mother wanted.

"So, is that a yes?"

The boy looked up, still silent, and stared at the man with a quizzical gaze.

"Oh, come on, lad!" He sighed. "Come back with me, we heard about your parents. You're all alone now, but you won't be with us. The Brotherhood is your family now, all us Assassins. What do you say to that?"

Edward dropped the quizzical expression and adopted a mournful one. He didn't know what to do. And there was only one thing that he could say to that.

"I'm lost."


	4. Training

He didn't feel lost for long. Edward was brought to the Brotherhood in Oxfordshire, a small base hidden out in the forests. While he was reluctant to trust these people, he soon found them welcoming and kind to be around and many treated him like a little brother, even when they didn't know his name. His home was taken by the Brotherhood as Edward was too young to keep it but was promised to be returned to him when he turned eighteen. Any weapons or uniforms that were left behind, anything of use, Edward gave to the Assassins but opted to keep his father's outfit. It was too big for him now, but one day, it would fit.

The Assassin that brought him there was called William Hunt and despite rough introductions, Edward and him became close. That void in his heart, caused by the absence of Haytham, was filled by another brother.

William soon told Edward that he had known his father when Thomas had been working in London. He had trained under him and although they had angered each other, William had taught Thomas the meaning of home and Thomas taught William discipline and the ability to work as a team. They had even saved each other's lives. He told Edward these stories and it put a smile on the boy's face. After his parents had died, it was like all the memories, all the stories had died with them and when someone could fill the gaps, Edward was extremely grateful.

With the training his parents had given him, Edward got by the first few weeks of Assassin training with ease, but as the tasks grew heavier and the training lasted longer, William was on call for support.

"Bend your legs- yes, that's right- careful!- a little more..."

Edward crept along the branches, his heart thumping and his breathing out of sync. His eyes were wide and his legs shook.

"Don't get too close to the end of the branch." William called from below, watching the boy edge his way along the branch. "It won't support your weight."

Edward nodded and swallowed but held no knowledge of when or where he should stop. Too far, and he would fall. Too short, and he wouldn't reach his target-

"Aagh!" Edward cried as the branch gave way and he crashed down, taking the lower branches with him.

He landed heavily in William's arms, branches and twigs around him.

"You'll get there." William laughed and pulled the twig from his little brother's hair.

"Will I?" Edward sighed, thanking William for the rescue as he was put back on unsteady legs. "I can't climb, I can't outrun anyone, I can't even be sneaky without being noticed! I'll never be an Assassin."

"One," William counted, holding up his hand, "that comes with practise. Two, you have little legs, you won't outrun anyone yet. Three, being sneaky is overrated and four," he smiled, patting Edward's shoulder, "your parents were Assassins. It's kinda a given that you'll be one too."

"You think so?"

"Of course. Give it time."

And Edward did just that.

_February 1740, Oxfordshire, England_

Edward crouched on the edge of the tree branch and looked down. He was perfectly balanced so that the tree remained steady and the branch didn't bend but he was close enough to jump. The white cloaked man passed by below, unawares of the predator that lurked above.

Edward made the mistake of grinning.

Just before the young Assassin slammed into him, William turned. The man was so skilled, he could sense the slightest disturbance in the air, even a smile could trigger his warning bells.

"You're getting good!" William laughed, getting to his feet and helping Edward up.

"I've had a good teacher." He smirked.

"Now, let's see how your sword work is doing." William unsheathed his sword and mockingly waved it around. "Sir, I challenge you to a duel!"

"What are we fighting for now?" Edward laughed, doing to same.

William paused for a moment.

"How about... My sister?" He raised a wicked eyebrow.

"That's cruel."

"Ah, come on, Edward, we all know how much you adore her!"

"That was meant to be a secret! You weren't meant to tell anyone- _does she know? Did you tell her?!"_

William just laughed. With a snarl, Edward swung his sword and Hunt took a step back, blocking the swing, a grin still on his face. He let Edward go on the attack while he remained defensive. The young man growled and grunted as their blades clashed, furious that his greatest secret had been revealed. He wanted to kick him to the ground, wipe that damned smirk off his face-

As Edward raised his sword, he realised he left his right side unprotected. William had noticed this as well.

Edward gasped as the fist made contact with his unguarded side. It wasn't a hard punch, but it was enough to send him back a pace, and that was all William needed to disarm him and tackle him to the ground.

"Agh! No!" Edward struggled but William refused to yield. "Get off, you lump!"

"Say please!"

"No! You complete _bastard_! I can't believe you would tell her that!"

William laughed again.

"I didn't tell her anything!"

"You complete idiot- wait, what?" Edward stopped.

"I didn't tell her you had feelings for her. In fact, she told me that she had feelings for you."

"Really?" Edward grinned.

"Yes. Now apologise for calling me a bastard and I'll let you up."

"Sorry." He sighed.

William stood and grabbed Edward's arm, pulling him to his feet.

"For what it's worth, I think you'd make her very happy." Hunt smiled. "You may court my sister with my blessing."

Edward bowed mockingly.

"Thank you, kind sir."

"Hey, I can just as easily revoke that blessing."

"Too late!" Edward laughed and took off a sprint, racing through the forest back to the Brotherhood base.

"Edward!" William called after him but the young man was long gone.

With a sigh and a shake of the head, he raced after him.

"That boy's going to cause nothing but trouble."


	5. Brothers Reunited

_May 1741, London, England_

The stale air was mixed with smells and sounds, most of them rather repulsive, but that could be overlooked when you're with someone that takes up all your attention.

"Oh, good grief!" Eleanor Hunt exclaimed, half in amusement, half in annoyance as she stepped over the muddy puddles that decorated the streets of London.

"Ah, I'm sorry, my dear." Edward smiled as he took her hand as she lifted her skirts. "But you did say you could use the exercise."

Eleanor rolled her eyes with a grin and blew at the stray strands of hair that fell in front her face. The man she loved returned that grin as he tucked the hair behind her ear and kissed her. With a playful smile, he crooked his arm and she took it and together they walked through the wet city until they reached the shops, away from the compact housing.

"Oh! What about here?" Eleanor suggested, pointing to a delicate shop, the display adorned with pure white dresses, beautiful and dazzling, they took the young woman's breath away.

"Of course." Edward smiled and waved a hand, allowing her to step in before himself. Despite being so young, Edward only seventeen and Eleanor just gone nineteen, the couple were already engaged to be married. While it wasn't uncommon for people to marry this young, they had little choice. Eleanor had recently become pregnant and Edward didn't want his to-be wife to be shamed by her family if she had a baby out of wedlock. But of course, he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved, practically from the moment he met her.

Eleanor was Wiliam's younger sister and despite all the teasing and mocking, William truly approved of the match. He was overjoyed to hear that the boy he trained for five years would become his brother-in-law. Edward would officially become family.

However, Eleanor wasn't an Assassin like her brother and fiancé, so they saw little of each other during missions. The time they spent together was held dear.

"Aren't you coming, Edward?" Eleanor stood at the top of the steps, her hand on the front door as she turned to her fiancé. He wasn't looking at her, but instead to his right.

He had a curious expression on his face and she followed his gaze to see a tall, young man. He had dark hair, like Edward's, but it was longer, tied back in a ponytail under a tricorn hat. He wore a long coat with the collar up and as he turned to his side, Edward could see his face.

"I don't believe it, Haytham? Haytham Kenway?"

At the sound of his name, Haytham turned.

"Edward? Is that you?"

The two young men laughed and embraced as Eleanor lingered reluctantly at the door before approaching them.

"My God, man, it's been too long!" Edward grinned and slapped Haytham's back.

"Have you been here, all this time?" The fifteen year old questioned.

"We have." Edward smiled and put an arm around Eleanor. "I heard you had left to Europe to find Jennifer?"

"Yes. We found her, sold to Turkish slaves." He said.

"The poor girl." Eleanor put a hand to her heart.

"Where are you staying now?" Edward asked.

"Out in France. Birch is training me. I'm only visiting England to see my mother." His voice was strained. "Although I don't know if she wants to see me."

Edward put a hand on his shoulder.

"That night was the most terrible thing to happen to anyone."

Haytham bowed his head and patted the hand.

"You lost more than I did, Edward." He raised his head and tried a smile, turning to the woman beside him. "Yet, I see you've gained more than I have as well. Forgive me, I did not introduce myself. I am Haytham Kenway." He took off his hat and bowed slightly, kissing her hand.

"A pleasure. I'm Eleanor Hunt." She smiled.

Haytham noticed the ring on her finger and his eyes flickered to the shop that they nearly entered before he made the connection.

"Are you to be wed?" A smile of amusement danced on his face.

"We are." Edward said and held Eleanor's hand.

"Then congratulations are in order!" Haytham barked a laugh and extended his hand.

The two men, the two brothers, shook hands and just like that, their smiles fell. Eleanor didn't notice it, so she remained beside her fiancé, hands clasped and politely smiling as the young men growled under their breaths.

Edward's eyes caught the ring on Haytham's finger.

Haytham recognised the wrist blade tucked under Edward's sleeve.

"Templar." Edward snarled, his nails digging into Haytham's hand.

"Assassin." Haytham spat, trying to pull free.

Now this, Eleanor noticed.

With a smile she pushed both men away from one another.

"Haytham, Edward, I trust this can be sorted out of sight, yes?" She said politely, signalling to the passers by, none of whom had yet noticed this tension.

"Of course, dear." Edward gave a brief smile and the two young men stepped into the back streets, followed by Eleanor.

Once out of sight, they spun on their heels, intent to kill painted on their faces, staring each other down. Edward's hand flexed, the wrist blade ready to spring out. Haytham rolled his wrists, ready to snatch the sword under his coat at a moment's notice.

"Gentlemen!" Eleanor clapped her hands together. "As I am given to understand, both of you are from opposing sides. Yet I see a look in both your eyes that can see only Assassin, can see only Templar. Are you forgetting you were once brothers?"

They froze.

"You talk as if you know me." Haytham said to her, not taking his eyes off Edward.

"Edward has told me about the boy he knew as a brother that he had to leave a long time ago. If you are that same boy, then stand down and look at him as Edward and not as an Assassin." She said, her tone growing threatening.

"No." Haytham growled. "You are an Assassin."

"And you are a Templar."

"Don't make me kill you."

"Who's to say I won't kill you first?"

"Edward!" Eleanor snapped.

Despite the rising anger, there was a deep sadness in their hearts. Betrayal. Like they were traitors to each other.

"Why did you leave?" Haytham asked, his voice softer.

"I was told to find the Brotherhood by my mother. I couldn't follow you and Birch. I had promised her."

"Your mother was an Assassin?"

"And my father." Edward paused. "And your father."

Haytham's eyes narrowed.

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not. Haytham, trust me. My father was an Assassin before he met your father and my mother. After I was born, my mother became an Assassin too and your father returned to England, met your mother and also became an Assassin. I swear I'm not making this up!"

"I don't care what you say, I loved my father and you think you can turn me against him?"

"That's not what I'm doing! Dammit, Haytham! Can't you see that's what he wanted for you? To become an Assassin?"

"You don't know him!" Haytham bellowed. "You _never_ knew him like I did!"

"Please, Edward. Haytham. Stand down." Eleanor begged.

Edward was the first to lower his hands. Haytham, warily, did the same.

"Go." Edward ordered quietly, tears building.

Haytham did not move.

"Go!" He roared.

Haytham turned and headed back to the open streets. Before he stepped into the light, he paused and spoke over his shoulder.

"I may not have killed you today, Brother, but from now on, you are _dead_ to me." He voice was harsh but quiet. Mournful.

"Go back to France." Edward spat and did not look up at the Templar. "If you value your life, do not come back or I will kill you."

"You threaten me?"

"I _promise_ you." Edward looked up and his eyes were red. Whether it was out of anger or out of sadness, Haytham did not stick around to find out.

"Goodbye, Edward."

"Goodbye, Haytham."

The young man stepped into the light, into the street and disappeared. Edward desperately hoped he would never see him again. He didn't know if he could keep his promise. But even worse, he didn't know what he would do with himself if he could.


	6. Family Man

After the conflict between the brothers, life continued as normal. Edward and Eleanor were shortly married and soon after that, in January 1742, their first daughter was born. Still reminiscent over the stories that his parents used to tell him, Edward decided on calling her Anne after the infamous Anne Bonny.

"Edward?" Eleanor said as she stood at the door to her daughter's bedroom.

Her husband turned, sitting beside the crib, his head resting in his hand. His eyes were barely open and he slouched in his chair.

"Yes?"

"Edward, come to bed, you've been here nearly all day and all night!" Eleanor sighed as she approached him. The light of the candles were so dim, the wax in a puddle around the short stumps.

"Just a little longer." He yawned, his eyes barely leaving the small baby beside him.

"Honey, she'll be fine." Eleanor put her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "You need to sleep."

Edward said nothing but reached into the crib and with a gentle hand, he held the baby's hand. Her eyes were closed but her tiny hands, curled into fists, reached out for her father's hand and gripped his finger.

"Okay, now I really can't leave." Edward smiled and his wife grinned.

She stepped away for a moment and went to the bookshelf, nearly empty since all the stories Edward told his daughter were stories that his parents had told him. His memory of the stories came and went like a summer breeze, but it was the audience of his young daughter that made the stories clear again. On top of the shelf was a soft, slightly worn teddy bear. With a smile, Eleanor took the bear down from the shelf and passed it to her husband.

"I think it's time to introduce Kenway." She told him.

Edward grinned at the bear he was given on the first he arrived in England. He had named the bear Kenway after his parent's friend, Edward Kenway.

He placed Kenway in the crib, curled up beside the baby. They were practically the same size. As Edward slid his finger away, Anne reached out and clasped onto the furry limbs of the bear.

"Kenway's looking after her now. Come to bed."

Edward stood, stretched, his body weary after being in one place for so long. Hand in hand, they left the room, putting out the candle stumps. Edward lingered at the door, watching his baby girl and his childhood friend cuddled up in the crib.

"Just think," he whispered, "one day we'll look back on this moment while she's off having adventures of her own."

"Yes, but until then, you need to get some sleep." Eleanor said and tugged his hand. "You're a father now and very soon, sleep will be something you will sorely lack."

"I know, dear." Edward sighed, kissed his wife and left his daughter in the protection of Kenway.

Eleanor was not wrong.

It was 1750 and Anne was eight and his second daughter, Mary, was five, going on six and both girls found energy to burst from their beds every morning to rush down the stairs and slam into their father who had just returned from a full night of... Assassin business.

"Papa! Papa!" They cried as Edward stumbled, his sleep deprived body desperate to climb up the stairs and into bed.

"Good morning, girls!" He laughed, wrapping his arms around them. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get some sleep."

"Papa, do you remember? You said you would take us to the fayre today." Anne pulled on his sleeve.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry, girls, but I don't think I'd be able to-"

"Edward Young!" A stern voice came from the end of the hallway and all eyes looked to Eleanor, dressed in a night gown and robe, hands on her hips.

"My dear-"

"Don't you 'my dear' me!" She waved a finger and she stormed towards him. "You promised Anne and Mary that you would take them to the fayre. Don't you dare back out now!"

"But I'm tired!" He whined and Eleanor glared.

"You have three hours to get some sleep before we leave." She told him. "Next time, make sure your business meetings don't interfere with family promises."

"Of course, darling." He said, kissed her, and ran as fast as he could up the stairs.

Edward practically fell into bed, not bothering to change from his Assassin uniform. His daughters always asked what he worked as, and why the uniform was like nothing they'd seen before, but they always were given the same answer.

_'In time, you'll know.'_

_'Its just boring business things, you wouldn't be interested.'_

_'Its not important.'_

He planned to tell them before long but he'd rather they had a normal childhood, rather than be burdened with such knowledge of the warring sides of Templars and Assassins.

As his eyes shut, he remembered all those years ago when Anne was just a baby. Eleanor was right, sleep was in short supply around here. Particularly when you're a father and husband by day and an Assassin by night.

There were not enough hours in the day.


	7. Different

Edward walked through the fayre, flanked by his daughters and his wife, receiving a deadly look every time he yawned. He bought the girls caramel apples and watched the excitement on their faces as they ran about, laughing and giggling.

"Girls! Don't go far!" Eleanor called as they started to chase each other through the crowd.

They replied with a 'we won't!' as they disappeared. Eleanor sighed and took her husband's arm. Laughter, chatter and cries of people at stalls filled the air, mixing with the smells; sweet and savoury, enticing customers to buy their confectioneries. Colours were everywhere, entertainers and dancers showed off their skills, rewarded with claps and cries of amusement.

"How are you doing?" Eleanor asked her husband, noticing him trying to restrain a yawn.

"Fine, just tired. I've been up all night trying to piece this Templar puzzle together. Every time we get a lead for a suspected Templar hideout, it turns out we were wrong."

"Oh, darling." Eleanor patted his arm sympathetically.

"I just wish I could spend more time with you and the girls." He sighed. "There's nothing more I want than just to spend a night with you in my own bed."

"I want nothing more than that too, but I know how important the Brotherhood is to you. It's where you belong."

"But I belong here as well, I hate for it to conflict."

"I know." She sighed and kissed him, trailing a delicate hand around his face. "Now, we should find the girls. They'll want to pick out some sweets for later."

"Of course."

Edward and Eleanor stepped through the crowd, their eyes darting about in search for the dark haired children.

"Maybe your skill would come in handy here." She whispered and Edward grinned.

He blinked and his sight changed. Blue light pulsed, objects were fuzzy and details were faded but his Eagle Vision was perfect for searching. However, not in the middle of a crowd.

"I'm going to get to higher ground." Edward told his wife and she nodded.

"I'll be by the sweet stall." She replied and he jogged away.

No one but the quiet, elegant woman saw the figure scale the building. Unseen by everyone but one, he raced around the rooftops, leaping up to the highest point he could and crouched, edging himself onto a jutting beam. He blinked again and looked below. White forms swarmed below, of no interest to him. Sometimes there were guards, red figures standing around the fayre, but they didn't interest him either.

"There you are." He smiled as he saw the two gold forms run about, one hand holding a caramel apple, the other holding their skirts as they raced around, fairly far from the crowd.

He blinked and his vision returned to normal, with the exception of the golden glow that covered the girls. Before he jumped, Edward saw the girls slow and halt as a man approached them. He frowned as he didn't recognise him and it seemed the girls didn't either. Anne took a step back but he grabbed her wrist, the caramel apple falling to the ground and she cried out. He snatched Mary and both girls called for help but the noise was drowned out by the festivities and no one was close enough to hear them.

Edward threw himself off the building, his arms wide and crashed into a cart of hay below. He leapt out and set off at a sprint, shoving people out of the way as he ran. His feet thundered, his heart thumped and his anger began to rise.

The man had Mary under one arm and held Anne's wrist with a vice like grip and spat threats as he dragged them away. Tears fell down their cheeks, begging him to let them go, but he, as expected, refused.

As the man was pinned to the ground by the flying figure, Anne gasped, her wrist freed. She rushed to Mary who sat crying on the ground and turned to the form that crouched over the unmoving body.

Edward stood, retracted his hidden blade and turned the body on its front so the girls wouldn't see the blood that pooled from the man's neck.

"Papa?" Anne whimpered.

Their father gathered the girls up in his arms and held them close, promising to protect them forever. It was then that Anne and Mary knew something was very different about Edward. Different to all the other men. Different, in a scary sort of way.


	8. The Disease

Over the next week, both Anne and Mary refused to leave their home. Despite their parents' promises that no harm would come to them, they took some convincing. The body of the kidnapper was discovered, identified and linked to other kidnappings in the area.

"He must have been a Templar!" Edward exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air as he paced the kitchen.

"Darling, there was no trace of Templar loyalty on him. He was just a rotten, evil man." His wife yawned, leaning against the wall. The children had gone to bed, the hour late but as it was the only time Edward could discuss work with Eleanor, she stayed up to listen.

"All rotten, evil men can be traced to the Templar Order." He grunted, folding his arms.

"Edward, you can't say that. What about Haytham? He used to be a brother to you."

"He is evil. He's been corrupted, his mind is muddled with the Templar Creed. He's confused."

"He could say the same to you." Eleanor raised an eyebrow before stepping towards him. "I know you miss him but you must stay focused. The Templars are terrible people but they're not confused. They're organised. You must be smarter than them to stay ahead, instead of blindly calling them evil and corrupt."

Edward sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He knew she was right. She always was.

The Templars were like a disease. An infestation, a plague. You can keep them suppressed, keep the symptoms to a minimum, but they will always be there.

Waiting.

He thought they had been dealt with, that London was perhaps safe once more. He thought that all the work his father had done would have kept this disease at bay. Maybe, even killed if off.

But, of course, Edward was wrong.

He ran along the rooftops, his feet light, but still clanking against the tiles. If he wasn't in such a hurry, he probably would have taken more care. His eyes flashed to the ground below, where his shadow flickered across the streets, unnoticed by many, but not all.

He knew he was being followed. He could always tell, but that wasn't what he was worried about.

Throwing his arms wide, Edward flipped off the building and into a hay pile below, hardly giving himself a moment to adjust to his new terrain before he was running again. He moved with the crowd, like a salmon, he swam through the river of people and against the current until he burst out the other side.

"How is it I can give you a head start and yet I still beat you?" Will said mockingly, leaning against the side of a building, staring at his fingernails.

"Hey, are we here to play games or to complete an assignment?" Edward returned, trying to control his heavy breathing.

"Yes, sir." Will saluted and stepped forward.

"Have you heard much about what happened to Emily?" Edward asked as they moved through the shadows and towards their destination.

"Not much has been said." He shrugged. "She went on a solo mission a while ago and hasn't been heard from since. She's probably been kidnapped and if it's the Templars, which is the most likely case, she should be hidden in a warehouse or something."

"I thought we were looking for Templar documents." Edward frowned.

"Oh, we are." Will grinned. "But, two birds with one stone, eh?"

"But we don't know if she's even going to be there!"

"Shhh! Keep your voice down." Will waved Edward down as the warehouse came into view. Just like the one he had saved Thomas in, this warehouse was situated by the river Thames meaning a quick escape via water if it came to it.

It was guarded by few, ragged thugs stood about with cudgles, most likely paid to be there instead of having any loyalty to the Templars.

"Edward, go wide." Will commanded, his voice low as he signalled the route for him to take. "I'll take the roof."

"Whistle if you need me."

Will nodded and watched the young man keep out of sight, ducking into the shadows and staying out of the hired thugs' sight. Crouching in the bushes, Will shifted his weight from one foot to the other to avoid cramping as he waited for an opportunity.

Soon, he got one.

One thug yawned while the other turned away and Will burst out, silently sprinting in and out of sight, leaving no trace of his presence than the leaves caught in the air. He jumped up the building, clambering onto the roof, remaining quiet the whole time.

There was a hole in the roof, big enough to see through but small enough so that the sun beam cast onto the warehouse, cut off by Will's shadow, was not too noticeable. He bent down, lying down like he was about to do push ups, and peered into the warehouse.

"Emily." He whispered, seeing the young woman kneeling beneath him, her hood back to show her bloody, beaten up face. She was alone.

Standing, he studied the roof, checking to see if there was a way in. He found a panel and lifted it before jumping down into the warehouse.

As he thumped against the floor, the light haired girl jolted and looked up, wide eyed.

"It's me, Will." He smiled and stepped closer to her.

"There's no documents here." She said. "They don't have them here."

"That's not what we're here to get." Will lied and knelt down in front of her.

She gave a weak smile as he cut her bonds. Will grinned. He never realised how pretty she was. She was usually a bit of a loner, preferring solo missions to teams so he never had the chance to talk to her. And hell, it was a long time since he had talked to a pretty girl.

"Let's get you out of here, Edward's outside." He said, taking her arm.

"Okay." She nodded timidly and he noticed her eyes flash to the wall behind him.

He turned and saw a few barrels stacked up but nothing of any importance-

"Hey!" Will cried out as she wrenched herself free and bolted to the door on the far side.

"Thank you, Will." She smiled, flicking her hood up. "And sorry."

"What-" he started as Emily pulled out a pistol and fired a single shot across the warehouse.

It missed him.

But that wasn't what she was aiming for.

The gunpowder barrels exploded in a burst of flames, sending the two soaring across the warehouse. As the building began to crumble around him, Will could barely think straight. He stumbled, wounded, the brief memory of Emily's treason wrenched from his mind.

"Will!" Edward cried, jumping out from his hiding place. "Will! Can you hear me?!"

He ran forward, holding his arm up over his face to the blaze. A white form, blackened by the fire began to cough.

"Will?" Edward rushed to the form and rolled it over.

"Will's... Still inside." Emily breathed, her face a painting of scars, bruises and soot.

"What happened?" He questioned, helping her to a sitting position.

"There was a kamikaze Templar." She managed, holding her side that she had landed on when she was thrown off her feet. "He shot the gunpowder barrels. I was close enough to the door but he and Will were caught in it."

Edward rested her down and bolted towards the door.

"Will! Will!" He screamed, trying to get inside the fire filled building.

"He's dead, Edward." Emily said.

"No. Not if I say so." Edward growled and burst inside, bracing himself from the fire and the smoke.

The heat boiled his blood and the smoke poisoned his lungs, but he ignored it all, searching for his friend.

"Will!" He managed before bursting into a fit of coughs.

With effort, he forced his sight to change, blurry, faded images surrounded him. But, there! There was a gold figure, trapped beneath a beam, fire nearly engulfing them.

"Will!" Edward kicked away the flaming rubble and lifted his head.

Will looked up, weary and broken. His face was burnt and his eyes told Edward that he had given up. Death was close.

"Will, you're going to be okay!" Edward promised and tried to lift the beam. He managed to bring it up, but the flames bit at his hands and with the weight of it, he dropped it again. Will groaned, his spine twisted badly under the force.

"Edward." Will breathed. "Go." He coughed heavily.

"No! No, I'm not leaving you!"

"You have to. I'm already dead. And you will be soon."

"I'm not going to let someone else I love die before my eyes."

"Then don't watch."

"Will, I'm not going anywhere."

"Dammit, Edward, go!" He roared.

The heat felt as if Edward's skin would melt away and half of that seemed to be caused by Will's rage.

"Just go."

Edward found Will's hand and gave the charred flesh a reassuring squeeze.

"Keep them safe." Will told him. "Tell them that I love them."

"I will."

Any tears that would have fallen evaporated on his cheeks. He gave a weak smile and stepped away.

"Now go!"

Before he died, he thought of his family. He nearly grinned, thinking of the faces of his nieces, mischievous Mary and playful Anne. He would miss them.

And Ellie, he'd miss his darling little sister too. He'd watched her grow up, from that annoying little child that grumbled when he wouldn't play with her, to the kind, gentle woman she was now.

Edward. Perhaps, he'd miss him the most. He reminded him of Thomas, that daring, brave, compassionate man that had passed down all of his traits to his son.

Will closed his eyes and managed to find a smile, now that his whole body was numb.

He'd miss them all, he hoped they knew that. But he was at peace because he knew they loved him and they would miss him too.

The blackened assassins stood in the distance, holding each other for support as they watched the warehouse burn. The black smoke that writhed in the sky could be seen from the other side of London and the heat was strong enough to keep anyone with some sense far enough away.

"I'm sorry, Edward." Emily said, a hand on his shoulder.

"So am I." He whispered, not taking his eyes off the flaming wreckage.

"We should go." She told him, before setting off in the direction of the Brotherhood.

Before he followed her, Edward took one last look, the hungry flames and the cruel smoke burning into his memory. It was like a picture of hell.

"Goodbye, William." He said softly. "Tell my father I miss him."


	9. Something Terrible

Hey, I'm finally back! I'm sorry I haven't been updating regularly, I've been so busy with work and revision I've barely had a chance to just sit and write. So, here you are, another chapter and I'll try to get you another as soon as I can. Thank you all so much for your views, messages and reviews, it's great to know that you like what I write and take an interest in my current and future stories. You guys are awesome!

* * *

><p>The day the news reached Eleanor, she had been out shopping that day with her two daughters, treating them to lunch and few gifts after the ordeal at the fayre. They had recovered, feeling safe once more, although constantly looking over their shoulder was becoming a habit.<p>

"Mary, try not to get mud on those shoes, you've only had them on five min-" Eleanor gave an exasperated sigh as her youngest turned and gave her a sheepish grin, her new red shoes completely caked in dry mud.

"Sorry."

"Just get inside and I'll clean them up." She beckoned the girls into the house.

"Papa! We're home!" The girls chorused but there was no welcoming reply. The house greeted them in a stony silence.

"He must not be back from London yet. I'm sure he won't be long." Eleanor suggested. "Now go and wash up, Mary leave your shoes by the door."

They did as they were told as Eleanor stepped into the kitchen, placing her shopping on the counter. She started humming to herself, an old song that her husband sang to the girls when they were babies. She had never quite forgotten the tune.

A figure caught her eye and she froze, turning slowly.

"Eleanor." Edward said and she smiled, relieved.

"Oh, goodness, Edward, don't sneak up on me like-" She stopped. His eyes were dark and he held an expression that she had rarely, if ever, seen before. "Darling, what's happened?"

He didn't look up.

"Will's dead."

The force of his words smacked into her and she snatched at the counter for support as her legs weakened. Edward jumped forward and held her as her limbs refused to keep her upright.

"Oh... Oh God..." She began to sob, her words squeezed in between breaths.

He propped her against the side of the counter, her body was limp expect for her hands which were pressed into her eyes, as if to stop the tears. Edward sat beside her, an arm around her.

"How... How did it... Happen?" She breathed.

"We went to infiltrate a Templar warehouse. We were trying to rescue an Assassin that had been snatched a while ago. He went in alone. Someone inside set off gunpowder barrels. The Assassin was safe. He was trapped inside."

Eleanor fought the urge to curse and scream, anger triumphing over sadness. She shook, gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut as she cried.

"They'll pay." She growled once the tears had slowed.

"They'll pay." Edward promised and held his wife's hand.

They looked up as two pairs of feet thudded across the house, growing louder as they searched for their parents.

"Mama, we can't find-" Anne halted as she saw them, red eyed and shaking.

"What's happened?" Mary squeaked.

Eleanor held an arm out and the girls stepped towards her as their mother pulled them into a teary embrace.

"Something terrible." She whispered.

For the next few weeks, Edward continued to report to the London Brotherhood. First of all, it was to attend the mourning ceremony of their fallen brother but it was after that he felt it was his duty to take down the Templars that caused this attack. To start his search, he asked Emily what the man looked like, the kamikaze Templar that fired the shot.

"I... I don't know." She said, shaking her head. "One moment, Will was there, helping me up, the next, I'm flying out of the door. He must have been hiding."

"You didn't see anything?"

"No, I'm sorry, Edward." She put a hand on his shoulder. "If there was a way to help, I would."

He nodded, thanked her and returned to the Master Assassin's office. The old man looked up as he knocked and beckoned for him to enter.

"So?"

"She saw nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

"That's right, sir."

"Well, the Templar is dead, even though his lack of identity makes it more difficult for us to trace him to anything."

Edward nodded, disappointed at how quick his search had ended.

"Go home to your family, take a break for a while. As soon as you have something, come back. We've got other Assassins working on it but they're just as stuck as you are."

"Yes, sir."

Edward turned to leave and was just at the door before he was called back.

"What makes you so sure it's a 'he'?"

"I'm sorry?" Edward frowned.

"You kept calling the Templar a 'he'. Was it a man?"

"I didn't see anything, I probably just assumed."

"Very well." He sighed and sat back. "Goodbye, Edward."

"Goodbye, sir."

Eleanor hadn't left her bed in four days. Since the funeral, she had remained in her room, depressed and alone. Her daughters took care of themselves and didn't complain. They knew that because of their mother's and uncle's age gap he had practically raised her when their parents weren't around. On numerous occasions, their grandparents had left Eleanor and Will alone, perfectly content in the knowledge that the Assassin could take care of his tiny sister. She had not only lost a brother, but a carer, her safety blanket. Someone that was always there for her.

With a groan, she sat up.

This isn't what he would have wanted. He wouldn't want her moping about in bed all day. He'd tell her to 'get your arse out of bed before I throw you, covers and all, out the window'. She smiled at that. He took good care of her.

She was still weak, so getting changed was a slow process. With tentative movements, Eleanor opened the closet. One one side was her husband's clothes - shirts, jackets and his uniforms. She took one out and held it up. Growing up, she had often tried on her brother's oversized robes and watched him fall about laughing as she tried to run in it. But other than imagining herself in these clothes, she had never had an inclination to put then on anymore. She doubted she ever will.

Eleanor put it back and turned to her side of the closet. She pulled out a shirt and a long skirt and dressed in them before tying her hair up in the mirror.

With a smile, she went downstairs, still gripping the banister weakly.

"Mama!" The girls jumped up from their game in the living room when they saw her.

"Hello, girls." Eleanor said softly, holding them to her as they rushed to hug her. "I'm sorry I haven't been well. How are you?"

"Well, thank you." They tried a smile.

"You know what I mean." Eleanor said, kneeling down.

Mary began to cry, shortly followed by her sister.

"We miss Uncle Will," they wept.

"I do too." Eleanor stroked their hair and whispered words of comfort. No tears fell. This surprised her. But then again, she didn't have many tears left to give.

"Eleanor."

They looked up to see Edward in the hallway. He was relieved to see his wife out of bed, but nothing hurts a father's heart more than seeing his children weep.

"Mary, Anne, go wash up. I need to talk to your father."

They nodded, wiped their eyes and left them alone.

"What did you learn?" Eleanor asked as the two stepped into the dining room.

"Not much. Emily saw nothing."

"Nothing? As in, nothing at all?"

"Nothing at all." Edward confirmed and turned to the window.

"How could she see nothing?!" Eleanor burst, spinning on her heel and pacing along the table, tapping the backs of the chairs as she passed them.

"She was by the door, she said. Will and the Templar were the closest to the barrels."

"You had a chance to speak to him. Did he say what he saw?"

"No. He must have forgotten, it happened too fast. All he said was for me to get out and to take care of you and the girls."

"Typical Will." Eleanor snorted, giving a smile as she stopped and crossed her arms. "Always leaving out the important parts."

Their eyes met and Edward smiled. She was so strong, so brave. He had more respect for her than all the nobility of England put together.

Then, Eleanor frowned.

"Did you say Emily was by the door?"

"I did."

"What would she be doing there? You said the other day that when you got her out she had cuts and bruises on her. She was a hostage, beaten within an inch of her life by the sounds of it. Will would have helped her up and out of there, we all know that. Why would she be at the door while he was on the other side of the warehouse?"

Edward tilted his head as his eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you... Are you suggesting it was Emily that did it?"

"I'm suggesting nothing." Eleanor shrugged. "It's just, we both know Will, he would be by that pretty girl's side for as long as he could."

He nodded, mulling the idea over.

"The other thing that made me think," Edward remembered, pinching his chin as he tried to piece the puzzle together, "was that Emily always referred to the Templar as a 'he'."

"What better way to throw off the scent than with the image of the opposite sex." Eleanor nodded.

"Hey, now it looks like you're suggesting that Emily did it." Edward pointed out.

Eleanor shrugged again.

"Hmm, looks like I am."

"You believe she killed him?"

"I do."

"You think she'd betray us?"

"I do."

"Well then, I think you're needed in London." Edward said, taking his wife's hand. "Grab your coat, we've got a Templar to catch."


	10. Suspicions

After dropping the girls at their grandparents, Edward and Eleanor hired a carriage and travelled into London. All the while, scenarios whirled in their heads. What if Emily wasn't the traitor? Edward would be stripped of his rank and would be forced to work his way back up all over again. But if she was, how would they reveal her? Blatantly telling the Master Assassin would be too risky. Even if he did believe them, not everyone else would. Those who were friends with her would protect her, or at least tell her that she was a suspected Templar. They couldn't afford to warn her.

"What about this," Eleanor sat forward as the carriage rumbled over the uneven roads. "When I was a young girl, I was part of a large friendship group. When we had heard that someone was spreading something about us and we didn't know who, we each told them different things. If we heard back that little bit of made up gossip, we knew who it was."

"That could work." Edward nodded. "We could feed her false information on Templar hunts and if it turns out we were right, we could prove her treachery to everyone."

"And Will's death will be avenged." Eleanor smiled. Edward wasn't sure whether it was a peaceful smile, or a wicked one.

The carriage soon arrived in London and Edward paid the driver before he and his wife marched through the streets, heading for the Brotherhood. They were greeted with respectful nods as all were aware of the recent passing of the brother and brother-in-law of the two.

"Ah, Edward." The Master Assassin smiled as he knocked at the office with Eleanor waiting outside. "I assume you have information for me?"

"Yes..." Edward glanced to the door. "And no. Mentor, I have suspicions but I'm not comfortable with speaking the name aloud."

"No worries, the walls have ears, I hear." He nodded with an amused smile.

"May I conduct an assignment to the Assassin I believe has betrayed us?"

"Wait, you think William's killer, the Templar, was one of us?"

"I do." Edward echoed his wife's words.

"But the Templar was killed in the fire with William, wasn't he?"

"Not if my suspicions prove correct."

"Very well. What does your assignment entail?"

"I intend to send a lone Assassin to scout out a nearby warehouse with information that we are to be storing important documents there. If they are a Templar, they will inform the other Templars who will promptly invade the warehouse."

"Or, Templar scouts will see an Assassin scout sneaking around a warehouse looking suspicious. They will either kill your suspected Templar and invade anyway or simply nothing will happen. I trust my Assassins, Edward."

"I will send a second scout to follow the suspect. As soon as they are sighted to leave the warehouse for Templar territory, they are to return to us."

"And then that Assassin will be killed, either by Templar scouts, the traitor, or both."

"Sir, with all due respect, I assure you, this is the right move-"

"Edward, with all due respect, if you're wrong, you'll be humiliated and demoted. Not only that, but I won't be able to trust your judgment again." The Master Assassin gave a stony expression.

"I know, but I'm willing to take that risk. Please, trust my judgment now."

The Master Assassin sighed. He knew that this man was firm in his belief and if he was anything like his father- which he had often proved on countless occasions- he would not back down. He knew him well enough to know that if he denied him this contract placement, he would go behind his back and do it anyway.

"Fine. You have my permission."

"Thank you, sir. I promise-"

"Promise nothing, Edward." He said, holding up a hand as he scrawled out the contract to be passed on to Emily. "Only make sure you're right."

"Yes, sir." Edward nodded and took the assignment, thanking him as he closed the door behind him.

"Well?" Eleanor asked as her husband returned, triumphant.

"Now we find Emily."

"And then?"

"We find someone to follow her."

"And after that?"

Edward sighed.

"And then, we wait."

Edward pretended not to notice his wife's distant attention but it was too obvious to miss. As they sat at the common room table, all around them were sounds of stories and adventures, clatters of blades and thuds of arrows. She had never expressed any interest to become an Assassin but she had their blood in her veins and the idea had been calling her for nearly all her life.

He said nothing but smiled, watching her bright eyes drift from table to table, as if entranced by their words. Maybe that was what she missed about him, about Will. The stories. Listening to dinner table conversation of his past missions, before he told her the whole story, blood, guts and all. She never flinched at his words of gore, she grinned, excited by the tale. She knew his adventures always ended in triumph. Well, nearly always.

Edward followed her gaze, watching her gentle smile falter as she saw the white figure, his hunched frame, stagger into the room.

"Oh, God." Her hand flew to her mouth as she stood.

He spun, standing with her as the Assassin fell.

It was the Assassin they had sent to follow Emily.

"Michael!" Edward rushed to the shaking form, blood pouring from more cuts than the man could stop.

"Edward." He choked, a trickle of blood lining the edge of his lips down to his chin.

"My God, man, what happened?!"

"It was..." He burst into a fit of coughs, spraying blood. He clutched his chest, an expression of pain wrought on his face. "It was Emily." Michael's voice was croaky but it was a miracle he was still breathing. "I followed her to the warehouse... There were others. Templars. She told them what happened. Then, she turned. She knew I was there." He convulsed, bucking where he lay as the breath began to leave him. He gasped, struggling for air.

"For God's sake, get a doctor!" Edward roared and the Assassins scattered.

"Emily is a Templar." He concluded, with the few straggling breaths that he had to offer.

Edward lifted up the bloody man and rushed out of the common room and down the hall. That was all he needed to hear. The on-site doctor met him halfway, where Michael was treated then and there, sitting in the hallway, his back to the wall as numerous bandages were wrapped around him to stop the bleeding as he was given enough medicine to treat fifty men.

"Will he live?" Edward asked the doctor. The Assassin was his first concern here.

"He is stable. Unless he has developed an infection which I cannot treat, he will live."

"Thank you." He nodded and turned on his heel, marching down the hall, his wife by his side.

Eleanor and Edward didn't knock on the Master Assassin's office door, they walked right in. He looked up, concerned at their abruptness.

"Well?" He sat back, removing his glasses.

"It's Emily. Emily's the Templar traitor."

The man groaned, pinching his brow.

"If we find her now, we could-"

"Why didn't you tell me it was her you suspected?"

"Sir, if I was wrong-"

"I know you knew the risks, but we're in a much more dire situation now."

"Sir?"

The Master Assassin held up a piece of paper, one of two that held his signature. Edward put his head in his hands. The other paper would be with Emily.

It was a transfer document.

"She's gone to America."


	11. The Transfer

There was a moment of silence as the heavy weight of realisation settled on them. The traitor, Will's murderer, had escaped. Most likely, she was on a ship at that very moment, sailing across the Atlantic for the New World.

"Mrs Young, can I ask you to step outside for a moment?" The Master Assassin requested and the woman nodded, leaving the two men alone.

"Edward, we must catch this woman before she causes anymore harm."

"I understand, sir, but as long as we can warn the American Brotherhood-"

"The letter will arrive after she does." He waved a hand dismissing the idea. "Either way, she will be given a head start."

"It is likely that she will stay low and will not report to the American Brotherhood for quite some time. This could help us."

"Yes. I intend to send someone over to finish her off, end her traitorous schemes for good. I have heard little of active Templar bases in and around the Assassin settlements but if they're there, Emily will find them."

"Who do you intend to send?"

The Master Assassin looked up with a smile.

"You."

"Me, sir?" He was caught by surprise, spluttering over his words. "But, my family... of course my loyalty is with the Brotherhood... I want to avenge Will... I can't leave them behind..."

"Your family will accompany you."

"Thank you, sir." Edward took a deep sigh of relief. He wouldn't know how to cope without his family by his side.

The Master Assassin smirked.

"Did you really think I'd separate you from your wife and daughters for so long?"

"No, I... Ah, I don't know, sir." Edward bit his lip. "It's just, it's difficult enough to leave my girls for a day, let alone years, or however long you'd want me to be out there."

"I would never do that to any of the Assassins. I've seen what it does to a man to be apart from someone he loves."

Edward gave a puzzled look.

"Your father, Edward."

"My father?"

"Yes, he was so distracted. I believe it was your mother he left behind in the West Indies when he returned here many years ago."

"I'm afraid I've quite forgotten the story."

"I didn't know much of their relationship, it was just what I heard from the other Assassins, William in particular. He had left a young woman behind that he cared for dearly, although he felt that his place belonged in London with a woman who not only didn't love him, but was a Templar traitor."

"It seems that an innocent woman can make the best traitor." Edward remarked.

"It does indeed seem that history is repeating itself." He nodded. "It was William, however that taught your father the meaning of home. With a moment's notice, your father was back on the next ship to Jamaica. He knew that home was where his heart was, and that was with your mother. I know this is the same for you, Edward."

The Master Assassin passed over a document. "This contains all the information you'll need once you arrive in Lexington and the Mentor you will have to report to."

Edward thanked him and leafed through the pages. He noted the name 'Achilles Davenport', however another profile caught his eye.

"This Assassin, Adéwalé, who is he?"

"You don't recognise the name?"

"I do, that's the thing. I can't remember where I know him from."

"Your father and mother sailed with him. Perhaps they told you stories?"

"Perhaps." Edward mumbled.

Over the past seventeen years after his parents death, the stories and adventures they had told him as a child had faded away, replaced with his own make-believe stories that he told his children. The only tales that he stuck with were the ones about Edward Kenway and, with effort, he could recall the stories of Anne Bonny and Mary Read, his daughters' namesakes. Those were the girls' favourite stories, the ones about the pirates and the adventures and the explorers.

"You know, I fully expected your father to take on the role of Master Assassin after my passing. It surprised me more than anything that I had outlived him." The Mentor spoke softly, recalling when the news reached him that three treasured Assassins had been murdered.

"But, he settled down and had a family and the Brotherhood became the last thing on his agenda."

"You plan to do differently?"

Edward nodded.

"Of course, my family comes first but that's why the Brotherhood is so important to me. I must train and learn to be the best Assassin I can be to protect those I love. I won't make the same mistake my parents did."

"You are a wise man, Edward. I know I have made the right decision to send you to the colonies."

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Edward nodded out of respect before being dismissed.

"Good luck, Edward."

"Will I need it?"

"I certainly hope not. But having a bit of luck on your side always helps."

"Yes, Sir."

And with a smile and a nod, they parted ways.

*****

The next few days were spent in preparation for their move. Edward had no family to say goodbye to so the family spent their last few days with Eleanor's parents, who felt that they were losing another child. But this time, they knew where she would be. The Hunt family said a tearful goodbye to their daughter, son-in-law and granddaughters as they left for their new life in the Americas. Eleanor promised to write and Edward promised to take care of her and then they were gone.

Although they were sad to leave their home behind, the girls would not stop jumping around, extraordinarily thrilled to be moving to this strange new world. Soon, all the bags were packed, everything they owned were stored tightly in luggage crates and ready to be loaded onto the carriage that would take them to port.

The journey was long and arduous and the family mostly stayed below decks with the exception of Eleanor who would regularly go top-side to vomit.

"Don't you dare laugh, Edward." She would snap at her husband as she- while being very unladylike- wiped her mouth.

He gave a smirk and shrugged as that was all he could offer. It seemed he and his daughters had inherited his parent's sea legs.

The family watched the sun set under the horizon, the blue ocean now glowing orange, pink and red. They could not see land behind them, but they knew their home was back there. They could not see land before them, but they knew an adventure awaited them.


	12. A New World

_Lexington, America, 1752_

The carriage rocked from side to side, the path rough. Light poured in through the windows, a soft glow falling over the family. Edward sat forward to look outside. He smiled as the natural scenery of the New World greeted him. Birds he had never heard before sang around the carriage, the horses softly snorted and the occasional bump of the carriage were the only sounds. It was so peaceful. It was perfect.

Then, chatter grew. Familiar sounds of civilisation disturbed the peace and as Edward stuck his head out of the window, he saw his new home approach. The journey from Oxfordshire had been a long haul but now, it felt like it was all worth it.

"Eleanor, darling." Edward turned to his wife who slept soundly beside him. "We're here."

She daintly yawned and blinked, looking outside the window for herself. Edward smiled as he watched her face light up, not only from the radiant mid morning sunlight, but from excitement.

"Anne, Mary." Eleanor gently woke the two girls who slept opposite them.

The younger girl, had her head rested on her sister's lap, Anne's arm wrapped around her. The two girls were named after two adventurous women that Edward's mother knew, one an assassin and the other a barmaid, both pirates. Despite their ladylike stature, Edward secretly hoped his daughters would grow up to be strong, brave women. But for now, they were innocent young children, strangers to evil and danger. It was a pity to rouse them, they looked so sweet when they were asleep.

The girls stretched and yawned, and like their mother, excitedly jumped to the window to see their new home.

"Are we here? Are we here?" Anne and Mary nearly fell out of the door.

"Yes, girls!" Edward laughed. "Now sit down!"

Restlessly, the girls sat back down, not taking their eyes off the windows. As the carriage slowed, they stood, until their mother waved them down again.

When the carriage pulled to a halt, it was all Edward and Eleanor could do to keep their daughters from bursting out. The carriage driver stepped down and opened the door, lending a hand to help the women down.

Edward thanked him and the two men pulled down the luggage from the top of the carriage. Eleanor, with arms around her daughters, gazed around the area, the frontier known as Lexington. Trees surrounded the town, much more trees than they were used to. The air smelt cleaner, fresher and all around them, it seemed like they were in a whole other world.

Well, in a way, it was.

"Mother, can we explore!" The seven year old tugged at her mother's sleeve.

"Yes, you can, Mary. But don't wander far. Anne, take care of your sister!" Eleanor called as the two girls sprinted away into the forest.

The dense forest, once home to silence and bird song, was invaded by shrill giggles as the girls ran on. Their parents watched them go, smiling, before turning to their new home.

"After you." Edward waved a hand to the door as his wife stepped into the hallway.

"It'll be perfect." She sighed.

"Good." Her husband kissed her before lifting a suitcase from beside the carriage and brought it inside.

The carriage driver and Edward brought in the family's luggage and when Eleanor went to help, she was waved down.

"Don't hurt yourself, love. We don't want a pretty lady like yourself carrying these heavy bags, do we? Just go on inside and we'll do the men's work." The carriage driver smiled.

Eleanor grunted and snatched a large suitcase off the ground and lifted it, with ease, and carried it into the house.

The man was speechless.

"She's always surprising me too." Edward patted his shoulder and followed her in.

"That'll teach him to think women are all looks." Eleanor grinned and set down the suitcase.

Edward opened his mouth to reply but Mary's voice rang through the air.

"Papa! Help!"

Edward dropped the suitcase he held and rushed to the door where his youngest daughter raced towards them, tears in her eyes, a terrified expression painted on her face.

"Mary! What's wrong? Where's you sister?" Edward demanded, kneeling down and gripping her shaking shoulders.

"There was... A bear." She sobbed. "It chased us... It chased Anne..."

Edward didn't need to hear any more. Eleanor snatched her daughter's hand and they thundered after him. He rushed through the forest, pushing bushes and branches out of his way. Dark images flooded his mind and all he could think of was his darling girl, lying still on the forest floor, eyes wide, unmoving, covered in her own blood. Then, he stopped. His breath was heavy and he was dreadfully afraid.

He concentrated his senses and his sight twisted. He turned, extending his vision and no bigger relief flooded his heart than when he saw the golden form of Anne sitting, curled up on the forest floor.

"Anne! Anne!"

She looked up and burst into tears as she saw her father. He dropped to his knees beside Anne, pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair as she cried.

"Oh, thank God..." He breathed, holding her tight as Eleanor stood behind him, whispering the same thing as she clutched her younger daughter.

Edward saw her look past him and into the trees behind them. Something had happened.

"Anne, what happened?" He asked softly.

"A boy. A boy saved me." She managed.

"A boy? What did he look like?"

"Edward, stop asking her questions." Eleanor put a hand on his shoulder and her husband nodded.

His heart had slowed and was at peace, knowing his daughter was safe. He lifted her up and the four made their way back to their new home.

"I'm sorry." Edward whispered to Anne. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

"You didn't need to Papa. There was someone else." She sniffed.

"I hope that boy's always there, when you're in trouble." He smiled and Anne returned a watery grin, closing her eyes.

Edward gave a last glance back into the forest.

"Thank you." He whispered to no one in particular.

A boy watched from above, obscured by the trees. He nodded to the man, even though he couldn't be seen. And then, as quickly as he appeared, the boy vanished into the forest.


	13. The Homestead

So I've been getting quite a few messages in regard to the last chapter on who the mysterious boy is. To answer your question, I'll be starting another story fairly soon from the view point of Anne and Mary as the boy won't be seen much in Brother's Fall. Stay tuned and thanks again for all the reviews, messages and simply just checking out my stories, you guys are the best!

* * *

><p><em>Davenport Homestead, March 1752<em>

Edward jogged through the forest, taking in the picturesque scenery. Sunlight found gaps in the trees above him and spilled through, speckling the path with freckles of light. Birds shrilled around him, their pretty melody keeping in pace to his feet that thudded along the road. It was quiet and peaceful, everything that he'd hoped for when he moved to America.

That was until he reached the Davenport Homestead.

Flocks of birds exploded from the trees like a plume of smoke as gun shot rang out, causing all wildlife to bolt from the source. There was the steady thump of axe on wood as well as the clash of metal on metal, matching the growing chatter.

As Edward approached, he slowed to a walk and nodded to the two men that sat around a table on the porch of the Mentor's home.

"Master Achilles Davenport, I am Edward Young, it's a pleasure to meet you." He said and shook the Mentor's hand as he stood.

"You must be the British transfer, yes?"

"Yes, that's me, Sir."

"It's good to have you, Edward. Come, have a seat." Achilles invited and Edward did so.

The second man gave Edward a curious look, his head tilted to the side. Edward pretended not to notice, but from a glance, he could see the man's dark skin under his hood, scars under his eyes and wrinkles and grey stubble to define his age.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" The man asked and Edward recalled a name.

"Not me, but I believe you sailed with my father. You are Adéwalé, are you not? Forgive me if I am mistaken."

Adé frowned, his eyes narrowed before they widened again in realisation.

"You must be Thomas and Jemima's boy!" He laughed. "Ah, yes, I remember now. Jemima was to be inducted into the Brotherhood but that had to be postponed because of you, little Edward, born June 1723."

"You remember that?" Edward was taken aback.

"A screaming woman in the middle of a ship is hard to forget. We were too far away from land when her term was up. I'd never seen your father so afraid than in that moment." He shook his head, grinning to himself as he recalled those memories. "Which reminds me, how is the rascal? And her husband?"

Edward found a smile but his words couldn't support it.

"They died a while ago."

Adé's face fell.

"I was not aware. I'm sorry for your loss."

As Edward nodded, Achilles waved them back to the topic at hand.

"I'm sorry for the interruption." Edward apologised.

"Now." Achilles said, placing his hands down on the table. "I'm sure you'd like to be up to speed on what is happening here at the Brotherhood."

"Yes, Sir." Edward nodded again. "I've heard there was a great disaster over in the West Indies?"

Adé sighed and shook his head.

"It was terrible, the ground shook and the ocean waves crashed over Port-au-Prince..."

"How many were lost?" Edward asked.

"Thousands." Adé pressed a hand to his forehead. "No family was left untouched."

"I hate to bring up practical matters at a time like this, but did Mackandal's man complete his task before the earthquake hit?" Achilles diverted the conversation.

"I cannot know. Vendredi has not been found. He was a strong Maroon, one of Machandal's best students."

"Such a shame." Achilles bowed his head for a moment. "So we cannot know if he found the site."

"Indeed. But if there was a temple under the waves, I doubt it is still standing."

"And the artifacts that showed the way?"

"Stolen. The Templars broke in during the chaos. They seized the Manuscript and Precursor box. I gave chase on the sea, but lost their trail when they reached New York."

"We must consider what to do next." Achilles sat back. "Edward, as the new recruit, do you have any suggestions?"

Edward blinked.

"Um, ah..." He stammered. "I'd look into locating the Manuscript and Precursor box. Get that back from the Templars."

Achilles smiled and nodded.

"I'm sorry, but what is this for?"

"We've been looking into artifacts left by the precursor race. We recovered a box and a ledger that gives details of where they are located." Achilles informed him.

"Ah, thank you. And so the recovery of the artifact was not linked to the earthquake?"

"A strange coincidence, I must admit." Adé folded his arms and nodded. "I had not considered the two being linked."

"I seriously doubt that the earthquake had any connection to the artifact, we don't even know if it was recovered or not." Achilles told them and stood. "Now, we can discuss this later. How about we take a walk and Edward, you can tell us of the Brotherhood in England and Adé, of the Bahamas."

"Actually, I must check on my ship. I won't be long." Adé told them and led the table, jogging down to the shore.

Edward joined Achilles as he stood from the table and walked down the dusty path. The path led out from the forest to the edge of the cliff, over looking the vast expanse of water with ships lazily passing by.

"There was a traitor among us." Edward said, looking out to the glistening waters that reflected the sun, casting light beams to dance off the gentle waves. "She killed a friend of mine."

"That is terrible to hear. Was she dealt with?"

Edward shook his head.

"No. She is here."

"In America?"

"Most likely in this area. She was given a transfer here, shortly before we discovered her real allegiance."

Achilles paused for a moment before the expression of realisation alighted on his face.

"There was a new Assassin, arrived not long before yourself. She visited once but is yet to return."

"What was her name?"

"Emily d'Winter."

Edward gave a mournful nod.

"We could not risk to send information ahead of my arrival in case she was notified of it. As long as she is unaware that I am here, we have the upper hand."

"Indeed. I will not tell the others in case they take it upon themselves to hunt her down."

"Thank you, sir."

Edward opened his mouth to continue, although there was little for him to say, but a young Assassin practically skipped up to them. He wore the colonial Brotherhood uniform, much darker than Edward's mostly white British uniform, lined with more blue than brown.

"Shay!" Achilles turned to greet the young man, passing him a pistol. "I hear you've become quite the marksman."

"A generous gift." The Irishman smiled. "Thank you, mentor."

At that moment, Achilles returned and the three turned back to the Jamaican Assassin.

"My ship awaits, Achilles." He informed them. "The people of Haiti will make good use of your supplies. I trust you will retrieve what has been lost."

They clasped hands and nodded to each other.

"Lost?" Shay spoke up.

"The Templars stole two precious artifacts." Achilles told him. "A manuscript of ancient wisdom, and a box that one to understand its language."

"I have tracked the Templars as far as this coast, but I fear the rest is up to you, my friend..." Adé said to Achilles.

"Farewell, Adéwalé." Achilles shook his before turning to Shay.

"Must you leave now, Adé?" Edward asked. "I'd very much like to hear your stories you have to tell of my parents and the infamous Edward Kenway, as would my daughters."

Adé laughed.

"So Jemima and Thomas have grandchildren! Now I would very much like to meet them, see how much of that adventurous spirit has been passed down to them."

"Is that a yes to tea?"

"I wouldn't say no." Adé smiled. "I think I can spare a few hours."

The two Assassins turned and began walking down the path, back to the Young's home in Lexington. Edward glanced over his shoulder at the young man Achilles was talking to, Shay, he recalled.

"A talented young man, I hear." Adé said, following his gaze.

"That's what I hear as well. 'Potential' seems to be a word used a lot around him." Edward observed. "He'll be a great Assassin by the looks of it."

Adé nodded and the men left the Davenport Homestead in their wake. Little did they know, much like everyone else, Shay included, that the young Assassin's path would take a very drastic turn, very soon.


End file.
